


Snap Happy

by Elektra Pendragon (elekdragon)



Category: Dark Visions - L. J. Smith, Forbidden Game - L. J. Smith
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-28
Updated: 2003-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-16 03:18:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elekdragon/pseuds/Elektra%20Pendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two photographers meet, but there's only one camera between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snap Happy

**Author's Note:**

> Just some contemplation on the idea that Zach and Lewis are two different characters who share a common interest. It all started with a constipated bird...

The bird looked very peeved. It was staring into its own reflection in the windshield of a new black Ferrari. Its little claws scribbled at the paint job, but couldn't cut through the finish. Its feathers puffed, but the car didn't back down. Its pristine condition was unmarred by even a speck of dirt.

And, apparently, the bird had constipation.

It was a Kodak moment if Lewis ever saw one, but, unfortunately, he didn't have his camera with him. He felt so naked. Kaitlyn said she'd only need it for the afternoon, but he was missing so many shots!

Lewis' fingers fiddled with each other, as though they could magically conjure a camera with their combined will. Lewis stared hard at the bird as it snarled and strained, stretched and chirped. Sometimes he would take pictures even when his camera didn't have any film; if he looked hard enough at something through the lens, it would still be burned into his memory. It didn't work without the camera, however.

His hands cupped around emptiness. His forefinger crooked, then pressed down on nothing.

There was the distinct sound of a shutter clicking.

Lewis looked down at his hands, half-expecting to see that his psychokinesis has some strange side-effect he didn't know about, like psychic transporting. His camera, however, hadn't magically appeared in his hands.

He heard the click again, and turned to see someone taking a photograph over his shoulder. The person was taller than Lewis, but he was crouched down to take the picture from Lewis' eyelevel. The photographer took another couple shots, aiming over Lewis' shoulder, then straightened to his full height. He adjusted the lens, and snapped off a few frames of Lewis' face.

Lewis' brain came back online, and he pulled down his cap over his eyes, turning away from the pictures. "Hey, hey, hey, there buddy. It's five dollars a picture, and I don't do autographs."

The camera came down slowly from the other man's face. It was a rather plain face; pale skin, pale hair, pale blue-grey eyes. Beaky nose that made his cheekbones seem even sharper, his cheeks thin. The guy could use to put on a few pounds--and a sense of humour, Lewis reflected, as the stranger reached into his pocket. He fished out a wrinkled twenty and held it out towards Lewis.

Lewis was tempted for about thirty seconds. Despite having the Institute fund paying for his college education, room, board, and photo expenses, he still had to live on a budget. Twenty bucks would buy him some new film...

"That's okay," he said, pushing away the money, "just send me a few copies of that bird and we can call it even."

The other man held out his hand a little longer, as though he would rather pay off Lewis than give up a photograph. Finally, he closed his fist around the bill and stuffed it back into his pocket. His eyes didn't look at Lewis' face as he mumbled, "You can give me your address and I can send it to you."

Lewis gave the man a look he usually reserved for Rob. It was the 'what the hell are you CRAZY' look. Lately he hadn't needed to use it, what with Anna distracting him, so it felt good to work the old 'you nutbag!' facial muscles. "I was joking. Do you think I'd give my address to a complete stranger who takes pictures of a constipated pigeon?"

"No, I guess not," the man mumbled to his camera. They both grew quiet, the young man contemplating his shutter adjust as Lewis tried to figure out if he were a loony. Lewis had plenty of experience with loonies and art students, and it was sometimes hard to tell the difference.

"You, ah," Lewis stepped closer, trying to draw the other man's attention. "You an art student?" When in doubt, ask the obvious.

"Freshman. University." He tilted his head back to where campus hid behind two or three blocks of buildings.

"Hey, me too." Lewis pointed at the camera. "It's nice. Same model as mine, but yours is much newer." All else fails, point out your common interests. He really needed to write down these things; the world could benefit from his social skills.

"It's my travel camera--"

"You keep the real one at home," Lewis finished, nodding his head in understanding.

Finally, the other man lifted his head, his sharp eyes catching Lewis off guard. He had a very intense gaze when he concentrated on something. It was almost unnerving. Or exciting. Maybe both. Having that intense gaze focused on him made Lewis feel jumpy under his skin.

"I guess we all get attached to our old favorites." The stranger made a gesture with his right hand, still holding the camera. "No matter how many new ones they buy us."

Lewis nodded in agreement again, even though he didn't have people rushing out to buy him a new camera. He only had the one. The one that Kaitlyn was now molesting, not thinking of his feelings about his darling camera, taking God knows what kind of pictures of her drawings. His fingers started to fiddle again, missing their old friend.

"Would you like to try it?"

That also caught Lewis off guard. To allow someone else to fondle your camera was like... Well, Lewis was never one for Freud, and he hated his Intro to Psychology class, so he wasn't going to go there. But the intense gaze softened slightly, and Lewis felt a ping of sympathy from the other man. Only another obsessive photographer could know what it was like. Maybe they were both loonies.

"Sure. I mean, if you don't mind. I--why would you trust me? I could just walk off with it. You shouldn't be so trusting, you know. There are some bad people in the world." Lewis finally got his mouth to shut off. His brain didn't work right without his own camera--the message to stop wasn't received by his mouth until several sentences too late. Maybe he was too used to dealing with loonies and people who were too trusting for their own good--Rob easily fit into BOTH categories, Lewis thought wryly. He felt instantly protective, yet wary with this stranger.

And why was he thinking of Rob again? This guy was nothing like him. Anyway, Rob was busy with Anna. This guy, however, seemed to be lacking a distraction like Anna. In fact, at that moment, his distraction was Lewis.

It was nice to be someone's distraction.

The stranger was smiling a soft, distant smile, as though he was actually directing it over Lewis' shoulder. Definitely a loony, but he looked nice. He tilted his head and suddenly looked rather...seductive.

Or maybe that was the stupid Rob-thoughts intruding again.

"You look like you're going to go crazy if you don't touch a camera. I don't mind. Like I said, it's my traveling camera." The man held it out to Lewis, nearly putting it right into his fiddling hands.

Lewis gave in. Or, rather, his fingers were attracted to the camera like magnets to metal. They swooped up and gathered the camera, cupping it protectively as they stretched out and petted the lightly textured casing. His fingers covered the warm spots left from the other man's hand. Lewis nearly groaned with satisfaction, his slight anxiety at facing the world naked easing now that he was clothed once more. It really was like his camera--same make, but a newer model. It was sleeker, too, not as bulky as his favorite. It was familiar in a way all cameras felt familiar, but it wasn't his own. He missed his camera.

Almost moving of their own accord, his hands worked through the process of setting up the shot, his eyes blinking before adjusting to the lens. He fixed the focus, centered, and snapped. It felt good.

Lewis hardly noticed that he had taken a picture of his stranger until he saw through the lens the man drop his head again, hiding away from the camera. He lowered the camera, his face apologetic. "I'm sorry. I got snap happy. I don't like having my picture taken, either." He handed the camera back over. "We'll just call it even."

The stranger nodded, taking back his camera. Things fell silent for a moment; the other man having nothing to say, and Lewis scrabbling for some way to keep the conversation going.

"I, uh, wouldn't mind a copy. Of that last shot, I mean." When the intense gaze met his again, he nearly blushed at feeling himself blushing. "You make a good model. It was a good shot. The light was perfect. It's a great camera. You've got great lines. I'm going to shut up now." Once again, brain disconnected from mouth. He'd never let Kaitlyn hijack his camera again. Screw her project.

"Would you like some coffee?"

It seemed, even as Lewis lost his ability to sound coherent, the stranger developed an ability to talk. "Yeah, I could go for some." If he drank anything caffinated now, he'd surely vibrate off the chair. He NEEDED his camera back. Withdrawal symptoms were already setting in.

The strange man turned slowly and started to walk down the street. He took a few steps, then looked back to smile at Lewis. It was a nice smile, wide and friendly even though it looked fragile--as if the guy wasn't practiced at smiling like that. He should do it more often. Lewis' fingers were jittery again, wanting to get a shot of that smile before it disappeared, but luckily his feet still had some sense and started to follow the man down the street.

As he came into step with the long-legged man, Lewis' brain clicked back into gear. "I'm Lewis, by the way."

"Zach," the man said. He smiled again, briefly, but his eyes remained warm as they walked towards the nearby coffee shop.


End file.
